


Paradise Lost

by Stephquiem



Series: Going Back [4]
Category: Animorphs (TV), Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Alternate Universe, Excessive Swearing, Gen, Sario Rips, Self-Insert, Time Travel, a family can be a teenager a parasite and a robot, tw: assisted suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-08-02 22:16:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16313672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stephquiem/pseuds/Stephquiem
Summary: The Animorphs find themselves sent back in time, which is bad enough. While they try to find a way to get home, though, one of them doesn't have the luxury of time on his side...Takes place during Megamorphs #2 In the Time of Dinosaurs.





	1. Panic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've made the executive decision that, from here on out, any Part of Going Back that deals with heavy subjects--see the trigger warning in the tags--are going to be rated M. Mostly because I'm not really sure where the cut off between T and M ought to be, and would rather err on the side of caution.
> 
> Also, disclaimer: some dialogue in this is taken directly from canon.

_**Steph** _

"Marco, this is the worst idea you've ever had," Priton said. "And I'm including all future decisions in that." We were standing on the beach, soaked through from the rain, watching the rolling waves that we were about to swim through.

"Yeah, yeah." Marco shrugged. "Where's your sense of altruism, Steph? People are dyin'. Potentially."

"I think my altruism drowned."

There was supposed to be banter here. I was mostly sure there was supposed to be anyway--there always was before we did something incredibly stupid. You could almost chart the correlation--the more banter there was, the stupider the situation was. Priton, however, wasn't in the mood for banter.

Which isn't to say I didn't  _try._ I could sense his rising uneasiness, even if I hadn't worked out _why_ yet. 

<Hey, do nukes work differently in this universe or something?> When Priton didn't respond, I pressed on, <I mean. The thing's going to explode, right? That's what happens here. Where I come from, nuclear explosions are usually seen as a pretty big deal.>

To be perfectly honest, Priton's nerves were making _me_ nervous. I was accustomed to his paranoia--we were only there now, on the beach in the middle of a storm, because skipping out on two "missions"--if you could call this that--in a row would raise suspicion. Even now, though, I could hear Priton contemplating making a break for it. Priton was _scared_.

I tried, one last time, to break him out of it. <All that radiation, right? Who knows. Ten, fifteen years down the line, maybe everybody develops cool mutant super powers-->

<Steph? Shut up.>

Tobias called down from above, <Come on. Let's just get it over with.>

Priton directed my eyes upward, and I could see an unhappy redtail floating above us. If it was miserable down here, it had to have been ten times worse up there. Still, my mouth set into a grim line, and Priton sent one last glance back the way we'd come, as if contemplating making a run for it. But the others were starting to wade into the water. The moment for turning around had passed.

Here's the thing about situations like this: From an outsider's perspective, a lot of the stuff we got up to seems silly. Stupid, even. Oatmeal drug addictions and buffa-humans, jungle adventures and Atlantis. Dinosaurs. "Filler." Stuff that doesn't have an impact on the bigger picture. It's really easy to discount those sorts of things. Even when you're in the midst of it. You forget sometimes that even if something's ultimately pointless, you've still got to live through it.

I wonder, sometimes, how things might have been different if this had gone a different way. Maybe if I'd been thinking in terms of what we were going to have to go through instead of just "oh, it's that weird dinosaur book." Maybe if we hadn't been starving on our strict and secret no-oatmeal diet. It's always complacency that gets us in the end. We think foreknowledge gives us armor, that change is something active that we initiate with purpose. In reality, our armor is just an illusion--our very presence changes everything.

<What is your problem?>

I could feel the panic bubbling up, even as I felt the morphing changes start. My skin was starting to turn the dolphin's grey when Priton said, <Steph, how long does this take?>

<Getting stuck in the Cretaceous? I don't know, a few days? A w-->

Oh.

_Oh._

Oh, God.

<What are you going to do?> He didn't know. I knew as soon as I asked. <How have _you_ not planned for  _this? >_

Priton didn't answer. He just kept moving into the rushing waves, until I didn't have legs anymore to walk on. We were the last to finish morphing, and even the giddy dolphin brain couldn't ease the anxiety.

* * *

 

It was kind of beautiful in a way, you know? The rolling, dark sea. The crashing waves. Whenever I think of storms on the ocean, I think of old-timey wooden sailing ships, battered by the elements. It's different under the water, though. It's different in a dolphin's body--you aren't just in the ocean, you  _own_ the ocean.

Being a Controller in the body of a dolphin is kind of like what I imagine it's like to ride around in one of those submersibles they use to investigate shipwrecks and things. Part of me kind of liked it, as wrong as that sounds. The ocean was huge and terrifying if I thought too long about it. So many ways for all of it to go wrong. Having someone else in charge of navigating felt like entrusting your safety to the pilot of an airplane. If you'd told me months ago that I'd think that, I would have said you were insane, but I don't know. Maybe time gives you more perspective.

Of course, I was pretty sure my "pilot" was in the middle of having a panic attack at the moment.

To be perfectly honest, we might as well have not been there at all. We spread out when Jake said to, but Priton really wasn't looking for the sunken sub. He was instead hanging back. Did anyone notice? Did we seem odd? Could they feel Priton's unease? If they did, no one said anything. Maybe they were too distracted looking for the sub. I don't know. 

To be fair, though, they didn't really need us. Cassie found the submarine. Jake found and towed back one of the Navy search team members. It wasn't until we swam away to demorph and remorph that Priton finally spoke up again. 

We had demorphed, and were treading water in the rolling waves. "Guys," Priton said, letting his anxiety lend urgency to his words. "We have to go. _Now_."

"We can't go yet," Cassie said. "We have to at least make sure they reach the sub."

"You don't get it," Priton said. "If--We--" My mouth worked, but the words Priton wanted refused to come. He made a strangled noise of frustration. I didn't catch his  _exact_ thought, but the flavor of what it felt like was  _fuck Ellimist._

"We'll be quick," Jake promised. "Come on, let's go."

We started morphing again. I thought the panic was tinged with something like resignation now. It was too late. We shouldn't have come. We should've found a way out of it. If we'd been thinking straight, we could have been far away by now. Maybe. Maybe.

The rescue submersible was already jetting away when we reached the site again. Priton's paranoia had made us tarry longer than we were supposed to, I think. It was like a self-fulfilling prophecy now.

<Are those guys all in a hurry or what?> Rachel asked.

<I was noticing the same thing,> Cassie said.

<And look up above. The ships are all leaving the area. Going in all directions.>

<I told you,> Priton interjected. <We need to go.  _Now. >_

Below us, the submersible was racing away. I didn't see where it was headed--if anywhere, besides  _away--_ because Priton was turning around as fast as our dolphin body would move and powering through the water faster than I thought we could move. He didn't wait to see if the others would follow, though I soon sensed them right behind us. My lungs were burning, muscles straining as we bolted. And then--

Flash!

For one, blinding second, everything went white. And then, just as quickly, the world went black.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Signs writing Self-Insert Fanfiction can make you a better person: I was thinking about cutting out some of GB!Steph's dialogue in this chapter because I thought she was being kind of annoying. Then I realized, annoying or not, she's doing a thing I absolutely do in real life, all the time. Uh... yeah, oops. 
> 
> In any case, while I'm pretty sure that, in-universe, GB!Steph is just making a joke about superhero origin stories, the mutant superpowers lines is really just a _Gone_ reference. Not all of my anachronisms can be explained away, but I'm keeping them anyway.


	2. Tears

**_Priton_ **

I don't remember the first time. I don't remember the jungle. Steph's memory of the particulars here is vague--"sci-fi mumbo-jumbo" she calls it--though I guess it doesn't matter. The others didn't know what was happening to them either time, but this time, this time, even as my host's mind shut off and the world went black,  _I_ was awake.  _I_ was aware. 

In a way, it was almost like Steph's memory of being between universes. Blackness. Emptiness. The impossible feeling of falling. But also now the sensation of something like a tear, like the world or the universe or existence itself is rending at the seams, pulling apart, breaking. You don't see it, or hear it, but it's  _there,_ you can feel it in your being. In your soul, if you like, if you believe in that sort of thing. Steph does. Ben thought it was a nice idea but wasn't sure he bought into it. I don't know that it matters. All I know is that I felt it--the  _rip_ \--in a way I couldn't remember ever feeling anything. But I knew what it meant. For us. And for me.

I was going to die.

I don't know how long it took. I don't know how long we hung in that strange limbo of unconsciousness. I was awake, but until Steph came to, there was nothing I could do. Just float there in what I assumed was now the ancient ocean, alone with my own thoughts.

I was going to die and there was, truly, not a damned thing I could do about it.

I felt something bump me. I must have made some kind of involuntary sound, though I don't remember it, because whatever bumped me left me alone. I felt Steph's mind stirring awake beneath my own, but her thoughts were just static in the background.

I've thought about a lot about death--particularly my own. I'm sure human psychologists would have something to say about that, but then, they'd probably have a field day with me in general. But for me, it was the most logical thing. I'd technically been committing treason since the day I decided my host's family and their freedom was more important to me than loyalty to the empire. I was on the front line of the war, fighting for the enemy. If we got captured, the others only had to worry about being infested. That's not a punishment--I mean, it's not _good_ , clearly, but it's what the empire would do to any prisoner of war. I wouldn't be nearly so lucky. And, even barring  _that_ reality, I was a wolf in sheep's clothing, in a scenario where the rest of the flock could get wise at any moment and that would be the end of me, too. The Animorphs weren't quite as scary to me as Visser Three. But only by the barest of margins.

<Priton?>

This was worse than all those other scenarios. Humans think that dying for the people you love is noble, and that was basically what I was in danger of everyday. I fought for Ben and his family as much as I did for my own freedom, didn't I? According to human morality, there was no more noble cause than that. This wasn't that, though. This was starving to death millions of years before the first Yeerk pools even formed on the home world. Nowhere to go. Nothing to do except to wait for the explosion that would send us home. Too long.

<Priton!>

Did it even matter? A traitor's death is a traitor's death, regardless of how or when it happens.

<Priton! We need you!>

My body shuddered as I came back to the present--or the  _now,_ at any rate. Only then did I realize that the others were trying to get my attention.

<Steph?> Jake's worried voice. <Do you know where we are?>

<Something very large is coming toward us,> Ax chimed in, helpfully.

Right. There were more pressing threats to survival at the moment. Survive now, fatalism later. <We need to go.  _Now._ No one argue this time.> Then, I turned and powered in the direction of shore. At least I thought it was the shore. Unlike the others, I hadn't looked around yet. What was the point? I knew I wouldn't recognize anything anyway.

<They're gaining on us!>

<What  _are_ those?>

I grasped at Steph's memory--how did we get out of this? What did we do? How did we avoid getting eaten by prehistoric sea monsters? <Dive!> I yelled, jerking quickly downward toward the sea floor. I couldn't tell you if it was memory or instinct that drove me. All I knew was that we were smaller and slower than the beasts after us, but being smaller also meant we could turn more quickly. The key was out-maneuvering, not out-speeding.

We dove, we twisted, we turned, we sped along until the waters became too shallow or the creatures grew too bored of us to follow. My lungs were burning. Had I drawn breath since the explosion? I must have, it had been too long, but I couldn't remember anything except desperation now.

The others started to demorph when we reached water that was about five feet deep. I pushed farther on, ignoring the dolphin mind telling me this was a bad idea, ignoring my straining muscles. Steph was only a couple inches over five feet. I couldn't stand upright in five feet of water and breathe, and I desperately wanted to feel the ground under my feet.

As it happened, though, even once there was a solid ground and I had feet to stand on it with, I didn't stay upright for long. It wasn't so bad when I was still in the water, buoyed along by the surf, but once my surroundings were more air than water, I knew I was in trouble. My legs wobbled under me, less steady than a newborn fawn, and I only made it another couple of feet before sinking into the rough, wet sand. 

Activity was going on around me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ax morphing human. I could hear the others behind me, trying to figure out what was going on. Steph was quiet, which was just as well.

"Tobias?" I heard Jake say. "Can you fly up and have a look around?"

<On it.>

I half-turned, surprised before it even registered why. But instead of Tobias, my gaze zeroed in on someone else.

Rachel.

Rachel, standing whole and unscathed on the beach with us. Not in the belly of prehistoric Nessie, but here with the rest of us. Somehow, this was more significant to me than the fact that Tobias was now flying overhead. 

It was, I think, the first time we'd had a real, tangible effect on what was "supposed" to happen.

<God, she really is beautiful no matter what's going on, isn't she?>

I almost choked.

<What?> Steph asked, so genuinely oblivious that it made me laugh. Or maybe that was hysteria.

Rachel must have heard me, because she looked my way, catching me staring. "What?"

I shook my head. "Nothing," I said, because  _it's weird we don't think you're dead_ didn't seem like the right thing to say. Rubbing my hands over my face, trying to get my bearings again, I said, "Ax-man? Do me a favor will you?"

"What is it?"

I gestured, vaguely. My eyes were closed as I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to stave off the headache I knew was coming, so I don't know what exactly it looked like I was indicating. Anything. Everything. "Explain  _sario_ rips, please." We'd already changed one big thing. There was no point in holding fast to convention.

"Why?"

"Just do it, I'll explain later."

By the time Ax got done explaining about time-shifts, I was able to get back on my feet. I still felt unsteady--mentally, if not physically--but at least I wasn't a puddle on the ground anymore. Doing something was always better than sitting still. 

Jake was looking at me as Ax finished talking. "You think we traveled through time?"

"No," I said, simply. "I  _know_ we did." I turned to Ax. "Ax, let me make sure I've got this right. There are doubles of each of us, right? Us here. Us back home."

"Essentially, yes."

"Uh-huh. So our options are... create an explosion to match the one that sent us here. Or wait till one of our selves kicks the bucket. Right?"

I'm not sure if Ax understood the idiom "kick the bucket" or if he derived my meaning from my tone, because he just said, "Yes."

"Oh, well," Marco said. "Is that all?"

"So when are we then?" Cassie asked. 

Before I could answer her, Tobias swooped low above us. <Guys. You're not going to believe this.>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was very concerned that people who don't know me outside of my fanfiction would think GB!Steph is straight. Mostly because at her age I was trying really hard to convince myself that I was. Turns out liking one gender does not preclude liking others. Also complicated feelings about sex that we're not getting into now.
> 
> Anyway, in conclusion, Rachel is a hot, badass lady, and I shouldn't need to say more.


	3. Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter involves assisted suicide. Read at your discretion.

**_Steph_ **

We didn't eat T-Rex. All things considered, that shouldn't have been disappointing, but it kind of was. There's something comforting about things happening the way you expect them to--the way you know they _should_ \--even when the expected was undeniably absurd.

Then again, a T-Rex might have actually killed us this time around, and I was starting to get the impression that I really didn't want to know what it felt like to die, even temporarily.

I don't know what it looked like to the others. Maybe they could feel Priton's nervous energy and just went along with what he said to do. If "I" was nervous, it had to be bad. "I" was never nervous. Maybe one of the good things about having Priton in my head was that he was much better at keeping a poker face than I was. Or at least, he was  _supposed_ to be. It was easier to deal with expected crises when you appeared stoic all the time. Too much worry might cause a panic. Too little might make the others think there was nothing to be concerned about, which could in turn make us careless. 

We set up camp in a clearing that was theoretically defendable. At any rate, there were seven of us who were morph-capable and able to keep a lookout for dangers while the rest of us figured out what to do. The first obstacle was food. Never mind hunting,  _foraging_ was a problem. We could find flowering plants, and fruit, but nothing we recognized. Even the most ubiquitous plants you could think of were different, or missing altogether. Did you know grass didn't evolve until well after the dinosaurs went extinct? Because I sure didn't.

<Weren't you a girl scout?> Priton asked this while contemplating a plant that kind of--if you squinted hard enough--looked like a strawberry bush. That definitely wasn't what it was, but when you're desperately trying to find something familiar, anything can look like anything else.

<We did, like, arts and crafts. And sold cookies.> Very helpful. <Was Ben ever a scout? Boy scouts do all the outdoorsy shit, don't they?>

<Sure. Thirty-odd years ago. For six months.>

<What happened?>

<His mom got cancer. Not a lot of money for extra-curriculars.>

Oh. Though, in hindsight, it probably wasn't a good idea to rely on Priton's second-hand knowledge, anyway.

Priton didn't tell me his plan until we bunked down for our first night. Maybe he thought I wouldn't react well. 

<I thought you'd be happy,> Priton told me. <This is basically all you've ever wanted.>

<How. How is  _this_ all I've ever wanted?>

We were lying on our back, staring up at a sky with too many stars. It was Cassie's watch, I think. We were supposed to be asleep. Priton said, <You'll have me out of your hair for  _days._ More even. Who knows, maybe this is it. All our info is from Mr. C-Average Andalite Cadet, after all. >

I didn't say anything. Mostly because I couldn't think of what to say. He wasn't wrong that freedom sounded very appealing--it was so close, barely out of reach now--and if this had happened at the beginning... actually, I don't know how I would have felt. Don't wish death on other people. Not so much for their sake as your own--I, at least, didn't like my mind going to that dark a place.

Still. It felt different now. I couldn't tell you how then, only that it  _felt_ different. 

<I don't want to starve.> Priton "sounded" calm now. But I could feel the rolling waves of anxiety. <Please, Steph.>

It was a day of firsts, I guess. It was the first time Priton had really asked me to do anything--at least, the first time I ever really had a choice.

How could I say no?

* * *

 He waited until after the first shift change. Maybe he thought Cassie would ask too many questions. Maybe he just didn't want to face things for a little while longer. Either way, eventually it was like a band-aid. You just had to rip it off.

Jake looked up as we rose. 

“Gotta use the bathroom,” Priton said, hooking a thumb over my shoulder, toward the scrub bushes that were just visible in the firelight.

Jake nodded. “Be careful,” he said, before turning back to his sentry duty.

“Always,” Priton answered. If Jake thought our tone seemed strange, he probably attributed it to the stress of where we were, and whatever was going on with us.

Priton walked for a ways, past the bushes and on. When he looked back, I could still see the fire and the shadows of the others, orienting me. 

I wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to do this, but that was a lie. He had a day before he started feeling the lack of kandrona, and there was no way to hide a dying Yeerk. Priton was a good actor, but no one was  _ that  _ good. 

<It’s temporary.> I couldn’t tell if he was trying to reassure himself or me. <Few days and we all snap back home.> When I didn’t say anything, he said, more insistently, <It’ll be fine.>

There was nothing for it. I knew that.  I could feel Priton’s consciousness bleeding into my own, as he stood stock still, with my back to the fire now. Priton always reacted to feeling overwhelmed by shutting down, going on auto-pilot. Now, he was just standing there, taking deep breaths through my nose, seeming like he was waiting for something, but I couldn’t think what.

“Okay,” he said, out loud, quietly. My voice sounded strange in the silence of the night. There should have been a town here, where we stood. All I could see was dirt.

Priton started to crawl out my ear without further comment which was, you know, very like him. My hands cupped around my ear to catch him. I wanted to call him back. I didn’t. It wouldn’t have made a difference if I did.

He dropped out of my ear, and I pulled my hands back to stare down at him. Normally, I might have shuddered at the sight of the slimy slug-like body, but just then I was struck by how very small he actually was.

I didn’t realize I was shaking, or how badly, until I crouched to deposit Priton on the ground and my legs wobbled dangerously under me. I steadied myself with a hand against the dirt and breathed in through my nose, long and deep. I felt the pinprick behind my eyes, watched my vision go blurry, as I tried to muster up the will to do what I had to. It occurred to me that I could have just left him there. The secret would stay safe regardless. Except I knew that when we reverted back to normal, Priton would never forgive me.

The irony of it all wasn’t lost on me.

When I returned to camp, still shaking and tired and simultaneously horrified and resisting the urge to clean my newly contaminated foot, I told Jake I could take the rest of his watch. He didn’t say anything, thank God. It occurred to me, maybe for the first time, that Jake and I were in a similar boat--more or less. We both kept a brave face to protect the others.

Who protects the protectors?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm reminded mostly of [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8913334/chapters/25591344) chapter of People Like Us. I'm not sure Priton has a starvation phobia so much as he has a _torture_ phobia--though I don't know if "torture" even qualifies as a "phobia," since phobias are, by definition, illogical, and that's a pretty logical thing to be afraid of. He can't be as worried about experiencing starvation through his host as he is about experiencing it himself, or it wouldn't have taken two books' worth of time for this to come up.
> 
> The thing with Yeerks, though, is that, unhosted, they're very small and easy to kill. There's not a lot you can do to an unhosted Yeerk, torture-wise, that won't kill them pretty much immediately. Except starve them of Kandrona rays.


	4. Rebirth

**_Steph_ **

I've thought a lot about insanity.

To be honest, it's always sounded kind of silly to me. Like an exaggeration. Like, there are definitely people whose brains detach from reality as most of us know it, but the word gets thrown around more than is probably necessary. And, I don't know, it at least  _sounds_ inconsiderate. Maybe I'd heard Marco use it too many times, and any serious connotation I ever had had kind of been killed by over-exposure. At any rate, I don't know a better word for it. 

Honestly, though, what even  _is_ reality? That sounded like a stupid question, but think about it. For the first thirteen years of my life, I'd lived in one universe. One reality. The world worked a certain way. If there was a "man behind the curtain," pulling the strings, playing some kind of cosmic chess game, there was no way to know. For a couple of those years I'd known  _this_ reality, the one that I was in now, as just a story. A fantasy. "Realistic" only in that it had characters in it who seemed like they could be real people. You could go out and find Jakes and Marcos and Cassies. Maybe there were aliens. Maybe humanity was alone in our universe. Who knows? And does it matter if there are universes where they exist?

When I used to get in trouble for the same kind of thing again and again, my parents would tell me that insanity was doing the same thing multiple times and expecting different results. I'm pretty sure that's a quote, but I don't remember from whom. Anyway, they said that a lot.

My body felt wrong. I don't know how to explain it. Everything worked the way it should, but something felt off. Like putting your clothes on backwards--it's all the same fabrics and shapes that you're used to, but it feels wrong against your skin. It wasn't like I hadn't had freedom before. But it was different. It was either for one brief hour during feedings, when it was impossible to enjoy anything, or it was when we were in the library, and then I was always still aware of Priton. His mind was always a presence there that I could feel. And I think Priton was physically incapable of keeping his opinions to himself.

When I felt like this, Priton would say it would pass. I think he was trying to be reassuring, in his own, Priton way. But then again, I don't know that he actually knew what he was talking about. It's not like "ex-hosts" were a dime a dozen. For most people, once you became a Controller, your options were either to remain that or, to die. Sure,  _we_ knew there was a light at the end of the tunnel--at least, for Controllers here on Earth--but no one  _else_ knew that.

And that was the thing, really. With Priton, being alone in this universe wasn't so bad. I had someone else with me who understood where I came from, even if it was just through my memories. I had someone else to share the burden of knowing what was to come. For the first time in a year, I could talk to the others. I could talk to someone who wasn't Priton, or sometimes Erek. But that didn't mean I knew what to say. Maybe if we hadn't been in the thick of a crisis. Maybe if I'd had time to adjust and remember how I was supposed to deal with this. 

There was something else, too. There was knowing that--even if we were right and Priton would reappear again, alive and whole, when we reverted back to our own time--he would still be leaving soon. And then I'd be alone again with the secrets, with days and weeks and _years_ ahead of keeping them. And then, when it was all over and I got to go home, a whole  _lifetime_ of being the only one who knew what happened. The only one who knew that, somewhere, the stories were real, and that I had lived through them. 

If friendships were built on honesty, than I was never going to have a real, true friendship ever again. If I'd known that was what I was signing up for when I came here, I might have told the Ellimist to shove his offer up his trans-dimensional ass.

Dysfunctional and unbalanced as we were, Priton was as close to a true friend as it seemed I was ever going to have. What a depressing thought. And yet, I still missed him.

* * *

 

We watched the world die. We watched it burn and billow with smoke, watched creatures we didn’t even know the names for--if they even had names--fall and starve and crumble to dust.

And then we watched the world be reborn. Life kept chugging along, crawling and clawing its way through the mire. Sixty-five million years flashed past us as we catapulted through time, and it was still just a tiny fraction of the Earth’s life. We weren’t even a blip on the timeline.

It was beautiful. It was sad. It was reassuring, too. The Earth would keep going, no matter what we did. We didn’t matter to it anymore than the dinosaurs had, it would keep doing its thing, long after humans and Yeerks and Andalites and everyone else were long, long gone.

And then we were home--or at least, in the ocean we’d left behind days ago--and I felt my heart suddenly beating fast in my chest, waiting--

<Yah!>

My whole body shuddered, like a machine coming to life, but I felt it as if from far away. A voice in my head had never been so welcome.

Priton said nothing as the group of us powered our way back to shore, back towards home. He didn’t say anything as we flew back towards Cassie’s farm.

I let him stew. He wouldn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t have to ask to know that. And honestly, I really didn’t want to know.

Later, though, when I should have been asleep, and instead we were lying on my back, eyes open to stare blindly at the hayloft’s ceiling, I said, <Priton.>

He didn’t answer. Of course he didn’t. But I knew he had to be listening.

<We’re not doing that again,> I said, as firmly as I could. _You’re not putting me through that again_ was what I thought, and knew he heard. When he still didn’t say anything,  <Priton-->

<Go to sleep, Steph.>

Who could sleep?


	5. Voluntary

_**Priton** _

Something fundamental changed. We were like when you break a plate and try to glue the pieces back together--it doesn't look quite the same. Bits are missing. The pattern's off. I could see the new pattern. I understood it. I didn't want to think about it. And anyway, for the time being, there were other changes to worry about. I couldn't do a lot for us, that was true, but there was at least one thing it was within my power to finally do.

Listen, even I know when it's time to give up the fight.

We took the bus. I had to look up the route--had we ever been there any other way than by bird? I couldn’t remember--but we got on a bus and took it across town and got off at a stop in an area we’d only ever seen from the air.

Steph was thinking about things that hadn’t happened yet. The walk from the bus stop to the house making her think of a similar walk, of a time in the future, of a gorilla wearing a sandwich board, of King Kong vs. “Gudzilla” and a “kid” decked out like a Calvin Klein model wearing a Bill Clinton mask.

I let her think about all that uninterrupted. It made me feel a little better knowing someone else was going to have a worse time than I was right then, even if it would be a while. Considering I was sure I wouldn’t enjoy any part of what was actually to come, I might as well get all my enjoyment out now.

When we reached the house, I stood on the doorstep for a minute, contemplating just not doing this. Turning around. Going back. Spend the rest of my days aggressively refusing to go on any mission that took us anywhere for more than a day. Because that wouldn’t be suspicious at all.

I sighed and leaned forward to press the doorbell.

When no one answered, I rang the bell again. And again. Maybe they were in the dog park. Maybe they weren’t home. I didn’t care, I wasn’t coming back if I had to go back home, hang my host and her feelings. I didn’t even know if you could hear the doorbell in the dog park. Probably not. Whatever.

At last, the door was pulled open, and Erek stood there, his hologram face looking a mixture of annoyed and concerned. “What’s happening?”

I raised the duffel bag I had carried with me this entire way. We didn’t own a lot. Hell, we didn’t own the bag, even, it was Cassie’s dad’s. “We’re moving in.” I stepped forward.

Erek blocked my path. “Sorry, what?”

I eyed the space around Erek, deciding that I couldn’t squeeze past him, and I definitely couldn’t move him. Also, for a metal dog who probably weighed a literal ton, he was very, very fast. Who needs violence when you could overpower virtually anyone?

“We can’t stay in Cassie’s barn forever,” I said. “I’m surprised we’ve lasted this long, honestly. But it’s such a dumb security risk we should’ve done this months ago.” I was staring over Erek’s shoulder rather than directly at him. This would be so much easier if he just agreed with me without question. Just once.

“Why now?” I could hear his skepticism, even as I refused to look at him.

“There are… some things coming,” I said, carefully. “They’ll make staying with Cassie more difficult and even less safe than it is now.” Let him think whatever he wanted about what _that_ meant. Whatever he was thinking, I could bet it was wrong, anyway.

Erek didn’t respond. When I stole a glance at him, he was considering me with an unreadable expression.

“Erek.” I paused, probably for longer than was really necessary, even for dramatic effect. “ _Please.”_

A long moment passed, and then, finally, Erek stepped out of the doorway to let us through.

<No need to thank me,> I said sarcastically as we passed over the threshold.

<I take back every mean thing I’ve ever said to you.>

I almost smiled. <Don’t do that, I probably deserved most of it.>

I dropped the duffel bag on the floor in the foyer, which earned another annoyed look from Erek, who was probably regretting this already. “One other thing.”

“Of course,” Erek said dryly.

“I need you to help me steal a portable Yeerk pool.”

* * *

 

_**Steph** _

It really didn't look like much. Priton said it was technically big enough to hold two Yeerks, but it'd be a tight fit. I couldn't imagine a scenario where that would come up, honestly, but Priton had just shrugged.

Priton and I never really talked about anything important. I don't know who's fault that is, honestly. Probably his, since he could read my mind even when I didn't want to talk about something. At any rate, we were both aware, on some level, that he was there only because I was okay with him being there. I didn't really want to dissect why. Maybe I just wasn't ready to be alone. Maybe I just had a hard time figuring out what we'd have done with Priton if I had told the others about him when I had the chance. I didn't want Priton to die--I didn't hate him anymore, and honestly, it's hard to be okay with causing someone else's painful death. At least when you started thinking of them as an actual person--and trying to explain that to the others would have been... a lot. There was a better way, a better time. There had to be.

Anyway, I figured that, even if I'd tried and everything had gone swimmingly, we'd still be where we were now. That had to be enough for now.

"Where we were now," as it happened, was in the Kings' computer room. Don't ask me why androids need a computer room. I was now sleeping in their guest bedroom because the remaining two bedrooms belonged to Mr. King and Erek, even though neither of them ever slept, as far as I knew. I guess it didn't matter, anyway. Honestly, it was probably superfluous to keep the PYP in the computer room, anyway, since it fit just as well in my new closet as it did in that room's, but it was kind of like Priton getting his own bedroom. Totally pointless and unnecessary, but sometimes things are just that way, I don't know. We were still figuring things out.

There was a head restraint on the side of the pool, but Priton hadn't used it. It wouldn't be super effective at holding an Animorph, anyway. And it was unnecessary for a voluntary host, regardless. Which, I guess, I was now. Really, truly. Because I had an actual choice now. Right now, I could make out the form of Priton swimming through the murky water. I could just leave him there. I could still keep to our deal--a few weeks, a month maybe, and we'd probably have the morphing cube. Priton, for all his faults, had fought alongside us. He'd earned it. Or at least, I thought I was probably the only one who had the real authority to decide that, and  _I_ thought he'd earned it.

Erek had joined me, and was looking down at the pool with a thoughtful expression. Whatever Priton might have thought, in my opinion, Erek was being a pretty good sport. You know, considering we'd showed up unannounced and Priton was... well. The way that he was. Maybe the Chee were just nice, I don't know. Mr. King had already offered to take me grocery shopping to buy whatever I liked to eat, though honestly, I would've eaten anything anyone put in front of me at this point.

Erek nodded at what looked like a steel box, perched on the side of the pool. "This portable kandrona isn't going to last very long, you know. They're designed for limited use." 

"Yeah." I nudged the briefcase-like box the PYP had come in. "They'd probably prefer to keep their people in the more public pools. Easier to keep track of." I wondered if the vissers had better set ups. Visser Three must have had something special, because of Alloran, but I didn't know what it was, and according to Priton, the higher up the chain you went, the more mysterious things were for the average lay-Yeerk. For instance, Priton knew next to nothing about the Council of Thirteen. He couldn't even confirm that today's Council was the same Council that Seerow had known.

<Probably not,> he'd said. <They'd be the equivalent of a one hundred-and-twenty year old human at this point, probably.>

<How does anyone get promoted to the Council then?>

<Fuck if I know.>

Yeerk politics had always been kind of mysterious to me. The revelation that they were kind of mysterious to Yeerks like Priton--the ones with no power to speak of--really only made it worse.

"What are you going to do with him?" Erek wondered. "Smuggle him into the Yeerk Pool?"

I shook my head. "We made a deal. I'm not reneging on it now."

"What exactly was this deal again?"

I started to answer, then stopped myself. "I can't say yet."

"Of course not," Erek said with a sigh.

"The deal's up soon, anyway," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. I was feeling weirdly defensive. "How long will the Kandrona on this last?"

" _Probably_ it can stretch a little longer than a normal feeding cycle," Erek hedged. "I wouldn't leave him in there for much longer than the three days if you want him to still be alive when you get him out."

"So, he'll need another Kandrona."

"Yeah."

"Or," I said, slowly, drawing the word out, "a stronger one." I shot Erek a look. "You know, maybe something thrown together by a guy who has the ability to simulate kandrona rays." Erek didn't respond right away. He might have been thinking about it. "You _did_ say he could stay here."

"So I did." Erek shrugged. "I guess I can come up with something."

"That's the spirit." He was looking at me with an amused expression now. "Just think, Priton will be in your debt forever. He'll  _hate_ it."

That probably would have worked if I was using it on Priton, but Erek just said, "If you say so."

"Thank you," I said. Because I meant it. Because Priton probably wouldn't say it. "Really."

"You know you don't actually owe him anything, right?"

"I know. It's not really about that." What I could have said, but chose not to, was that we were only having this conversation now at all because Erek hadn't given Priton away. If Priton had stuck around long enough for me to get emotionally attached, it was no one's fault but Erek's. Really, _he_ owed _me_.

I thought he probably knew it, too, because Erek said, "Okay. Whatever'll make you happy, I guess."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reasonable person would have done this books ago. But to call Priton anything approaching "reasonable" is to fundamentally misunderstand his character. And truly, this is a vast improvement over previous versions of Going Back--until like two years ago this moment didn't come until right in the middle of the David Trilogy. A moment of silence, please, for the subplots we lost along the way.
> 
> ...
> 
> Anyway, tune in next time for a train wreck. I mean #19. I've written most of the important bits, but I've yet to pick an appropriately literary title. I don't know how this series ended up with literary titles--except "Interludes," because I didn't realize there was a pattern until I decided to name this Paradise Lost--but somehow it did. I know "The Impossible Dream" is a song, but Man of La Mancha is theater so it counts. In retrospect, I could have named it Don Quixote, since that would make about as much sense as naming Part 2 The Pied Piper. Welcome to the Author's Note section, where I just roast myself for ages.


End file.
